


Rising Sun

by banesarcher



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Heartbreak, I just want to give Magnus Bane a hug, M/M, Malec, Post-Break Up, Post-Episode: s02e18 Awake Arise Or Be Forever Fallen, Post-Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Break Up, post 2x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 15:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17900750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banesarcher/pseuds/banesarcher
Summary: "There's no sound of bare feet pattering on the wooden floor of the loft, and no soft lips pressing gently against the nape of Magnus's neck in a wordless gesture ofI'm here for you. Alec isn't here for him anymore. Not after Magnus walked away."-Angsty account of Magnus dealing with his feelings after his break up with Alec in 2x18. I know I'm late to the party posting this since 2x18 aired ages ago, but I found this as a draft on my computer and really wanted to finish it, so enjoy (?) the angst.





	Rising Sun

It's 4am and Magnus is awake.

That should be the abnormal part of this situation, he knows. It was not normal to get barely an hours worth of sleep no matter how hard he tried. It was not normal to be sitting in his living room with exhaustion weighing down his body, looking out at the shy glow of dawn breaking through the windows. It was not normal to see his mother's dead body, crimson blooming across her nightgown, imprinted behind his eyelids every time he tried to sleep.

But since the torture he had suffered in Valentine's body, this was his normal. It was a draining and vicious normal but it was the only normal he had.

Instead, the truly abnormal part of this morning to Magnus was the stifling silence of the apartment. There were no light snores drifting from the open door of his bedroom. Alec hadn't woken up and reached out to find Magnus's side of the bed cold and empty, because Alec's side of the bed was cold and empty now, too. His Shadowhunter gear was not folded on the chair in the corner of the room where it was always placed, except for in the moments where folding clothes was the last thing on their minds. There's no sound of bare feet pattering on the wooden floor of the loft, and no soft lips pressing gently against the nape of Magnus's neck in a wordless gesture of _I'm here for you_. Alec isn't here for him anymore. Not after Magnus walked away.

He's reminded of that choice by every empty space Alec's belongings have left behind. It's why he's sitting so close to the window, staring out at the horizon instead of his own home; he can't bear to see the places where Alec had once been, and where he would no longer be. At least, not in the same way as before. The thought stings, brings a painful realisation to his exhausted mind, and he raises two fingers to rub at his temple. He supposes this is what he gets for opening his heart up again after centuries. For thinking he could, just for once, just this time, choose both love and duty. He can't. He never can.

The light of dawn is growing brighter outside his window, and Magnus can feel his sleep deprived eyes ache with protest, but he doesn't turn away.

His heart has been broken many times before. It was not a new feeling to Magnus. He'd had partners leave him before, had to leave partners himself. There had been heartbreak over his warlock mark, over his immortality, over who he was. He'd seen partners age and die, but he'd also seen some refuse to do so by his unchanging side. Others had fallen in love with someone else, fallen into bed with someone else. But he'd never before lost someone because he loved them too much. Alexander was the first in that regard. Amazingly, he was the first of many things in Magnus's long life. He thinks that's why this heartbreak hurts more than it ever has before.

And _oh,_ does it hurt. Immortality has trained him over limitless years to be able to hide emotions when he wanted to, but in his apartment, away from prying eyes, pain shows in every inch of his body. The teacup he had been holding now rests on the coffee table, abandoned in favour of wrapping his arms around himself, as though it will quell the ache in his chest. His back is hunched, his head heavy with exhaustion, his nail polish chipped. By the time the sun is up he'll have recollected himself, repainted his nails, hidden the dark circles under his eyes, but for now he lets himself fall apart.

His glamour falls, too. Out of a sheer lack of energy or care to keep it up, he can see the reflection of his cat eyes in the window as he watches Brooklyn slowly coming alive. Alec had once called them beautiful, but now the sight of them makes Magnus want to do nothing more than close his eyes. And he does. It doesn't matter to him anymore. Now that he's awake, he can't see his mother's vacant face staring back at him behind his eyelids. It would be a relief, if not for the fact that Alec's face is there instead with an expression that is anything but vacant. It’s pained and desperate and broken, it's disbelieving that this is the end of them; that even though Magnus's unspoken fear was that Alec would leave him, he left Alec instead. 

He’d made the decision to do so earlier than he likes to admit to himself. If he were to allow himself to lie, he’d say that he’d made the decision only after Alec’s apology. But he knows that’s not true, and no matter how hard he tries, the truth has an unbeatable ability to catch up to him. In reality, he’d known his decision had been made when he’d felt Alec’s hand leave his own. When he’d watched the Shadowhunter walk back to his family, and been reminded that that was exactly what Alec was: a Shadowhunter. And though he couldn’t help it, though it was all he’d ever known, he was a member of the nephilim, the very same people who promised Magnus the protection of his people and unremorsefully betrayed that promise time and time again. The people who believed Magnus was inferior merely because of the blood that ran in his veins, and who talked so highly of laws which had allowed for Downworlders to be killed and tortured and wrongfully imprisoned. He had watched Alec choose his people, his family, the Shadowhunters, and had decided in that moment that he must do the same. He had to choose his people because he knew the Clave never would. 

He just wished he could have chosen Alec, too.

He’d left the institute straight after, emerging from its grand double doors and inhaling heavily, as though the fresh air of the night would cleanse his mind of the look on Alec’s face. Instead he’d found himself getting lost in it, passing unnoticed through the busy streets of Brooklyn and only being roused back to reality hours later by the obnoxious honks of angry New York traffic. The sight of the Hunter’s Moon greeted him, its lights still on. Muffled voices and music bled through the walls, and Magnus had realised he must have walked there without thinking. He could see Maia through the window, standing at the bar, pouring shots out for a group of Seelies who were throwing them back at an alarming speed. She seemed to feel his eyes on her and looked up, casting him a smile and waving a gesture to come in. For a moment, Magnus had been tempted to, deciding that if he was going to drown his sorrows anyway he may as well do it with friends. But he also knew that being heartbroken and drunk in a public place was a recipe for disaster, and so he had shaken his head instead and returned the smile, turning to leave when he saw the concern that flashed across Maia’s face. He’d opened a portal, and then he was home.

That night, when he went to bed, it was Alec he saw imprinted behind his eyelids, crimson blooming across his shirt. He'd woken up in cold sweats, a sob of the Shadowhunter’s name upon his lips.

Sometimes, when Alec had found Magnus awoken by another nightmare after he had learned about the warlock's past, he had sat himself in the chair opposite Magnus and simply listened to him recount the nightmare. Other times, when Magnus did not want to talk, they had sat in comfortable silence and simply held each other as the sun came up.

Magnus can see the sun coming up, but there's no one holding him now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting to AO3 (and I'm weirdly terrified about it) but please, if you'd like to, drop me a comment letting me know what you thought of this. Constructive criticism is welcome and extremely useful in helping me improve so feel free to leave me any comments or suggestions you have. Thanks!


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